


Saturdays

by thepeskyunicorn



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Cuddling, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 01:37:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5608957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepeskyunicorn/pseuds/thepeskyunicorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Saturdays are Connor's favourite, a limbo between the relief of the last day of the week and the dread of the start of a new one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saturdays

Saturdays are Connor's favourite, a limbo between the relief of the last day of the week and the dread of the start of a new one. 

Saturdays are Connor's favourite, because there’s lazy morning sex; the slow, languid kind that they don't do much anymore, seeing how busy Connor is with work lately. He relishes the feel of so much skin on skin, the long drag of stubble across his cheek, his chest, his thighs, and the way they're fitted so close, he could taste the love between every breath they take.

Saturdays are Connor's favourite, because he gets to watch Oliver cook. Sometimes, he even helps out himself, being tasked to chop the onions or stir the sauce, all while listening to Oliver babble about his grandmother's famous stew and his memories of childhood. He loves the way Oliver lights up when he recounts something, gesturing wide with a spoon in his hand to emphasise on a point, and the way he smiles, all soft and sweet, when he mentions the way this feels like home. It’s frightening how domestic they've become, but Connor can't bring himself to care.

Saturdays are Connor's favourite, because he gets to lie on the couch and binge watch movies and shows on Netflix and complain about Oliver's predilection for tacky science fiction movies. Oliver, in turn, teases Connor for his slight obsession with reality tv. Connor doesn't sit on his side of the couch anymore. He has a designated spot now - snug against Oliver's chest - so that Oliver can indulge in his favourite pastime.

They had discovered it quite by accident, that Connor likes having his hair touched. It was a surprise to Oliver, seeing how much effort he puts into styling his hair, it would seem natural that Connor wouldn't want anyone touching it.

After a morning spent deliberately messing up the perfectly coiffed hairdo, Oliver brought it up again, hesitantly this time, during their Saturday marathon movie session by carding a hand through Connor's hair, now devoid of gel. What he'd expect was an annoyed scowl and Connor batting his hands away, not for him to close his eyes slowly with a blissed out look on his face.

It had become a ritual then, Connor lying on Oliver's chest, close to purring as the other man combs through his hair, both only half paying attention to the TV. It was as close to perfect as it can get, with Connor blinking sleepily at the screen, head rising and falling with the sound of Oliver's breathing, almost nearly purring at the soft scratching of his scalp. He can hear Oliver's heart from his position if he concentrates hard enough, and it's his favourite sound to fall asleep to.

Saturdays are Connor's favourite, because once upon a time he believed that the life he's living is a fantasy, but in the reflected light of the television screen sending the shadows of Oliver eyelashes brushing against cheeks, he knows, truly deeply madly knows, that it is as real as his hand against Oliver's chest, feeling the beat of his heart beneath his fingers, reminding him of what he has.


End file.
